Kat, Incorrigible

by Stephanie Burgis

  “Oh, my Lord,” I said. “You’ve been waiting your whole life for this, haven’t you?”

  “Can you doubt it?” said Angeline. “Look at the two of them! He’s as bad as she is.”

  They both ignored us as if we hadn’t spoken.

  “I would gladly sacrifice my life for your happiness,” Mr. Collingwood said.

  “Do you think I could live with such a burden on my soul?” Elissa asked.

  “I am going to be sick!” I announced.

  “I am both honored and delighted by your decision,” said Sir Neville. “Miss Stephenson, if you would give me your hand …” He held out his arm, ignoring his brother, who knelt between them. “Shall we repair to the salon to announce our betrothal?”

  “No!” I shouted.

  The doors were closed and guarded. It didn’t matter. Like it or not, there was only one option left.

  “Grab Elissa’s hand!” I said to Angeline, and I lunged across the room. I shoved past Mr. Collingwood and grabbed Elissa’s arm.

  “Kat, what on earth—?” she began.

  “What is going on?” Stepmama demanded. “Katherine—”

  “Got her,” Angeline said. “Now what?”

  “Miss Stephenson!” said Mr. Collingwood, and grabbed for Elissa. “You must reconsider.”

  “I think not,” Sir Neville said. “Whatever you may be planning, Miss Katherine—”

  I tightened my grip on Elissa’s arm and clicked the mirror open.

  “That’s Mama’s mirror!” Elissa gasped. “How did you get—ohhh!”

  Her gasp turned into a scream as the world flipped inside out around us.

  We landed in a tumble of arms and legs and moans of pain.

  “Ouch!”

  “Get off!”

  “You’re sitting on my head!”

  “Miss Stephenson, where are you?” Mr. Collingwood’s voice came out muffled by yards of muslin across his face. He spat it out and sat up, wild-eyed. “Miss Stephenson!”

  Stepmama’s voice rose above all the rest in a shriek of pure outrage as she yanked the skirts of her dress back down over her legs. “Kat, what have you done this time?”

  “It’s all right, ma’am,” I said, as I disentangled myself and shoved Angeline’s elbow off my throat. “You weren’t meant to come with us, but since you have, you might as well—”

  “Did you truly mean to leave your own stepmother behind?” Sir Neville drawled behind me. “How deplorably inconsiderate of you, Miss Katherine. And how fortunate for me that I managed to see through your rather transparent ploy and take a firm hold of your sister myself. I should have hated to be left behind and miss this experience. I have heard of the Guardians’ Golden Hall many times, of course, but the reality …” He rose to his feet and scanned the room with cool authority. “Truly astounding. I shall enjoy exploring it further, with your sisterly assistance.”

  “Where are we?” Elissa whispered.

  I stood up. My knees were trembling. I had to hold out my arms for balance. Curses. I’d really thought I’d managed to find the perfect escape. Of course, it wouldn’t have solved our larger problems, but I’d thought I could at least keep Elissa safe and secluded until I had time to think of a real solution.

  It looked like I didn’t have any more time after all.

  “Clearly, Kat’s been playing with Mama’s belongings,” said Angeline. “That must be why she went through Mama’s cabinet back home.” Her voice was more level than I would have expected; perhaps her anger at Sir Neville was balancing out her outrage at me.

  “You did what?” Stepmama’s bellow echoed around the Golden Hall, bouncing off the walls around us. “How dare you?!”

  “Could everyone please concentrate?” I said. “You can all shout at me later, if you like, but—”

  “Give me the mirror now,” Angeline said, “and we’ll pretend you never took it.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “First of all, it’s not here with me—it’s back in Lady Graves’s library—but mainly, it won’t let me. It’s mine now.”

  “It belonged to Mama.”

  “I know. But when I found it—”

  “You broke almost everything else in her cupboard. How can you claim one of the only things that’s left?”

  “I know,” I said. “It was an accident. But—”

  “You’ve been after her magic books ever since you first saw I had them,” said Angeline. “You’re trying to take away everything that was hers. How can you be so selfish?”

  “I am not!” I said. “But she was my mother too, not just yours. You can’t pretend—”

  “You never even met her!”

  “You—”

  “Be quiet!” Elissa shrieked. She leaped to her feet. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparked with rage. Mr. Collingwood gazed up at her in awe from the floor by her feet, and I had to admit, she did look exactly like an avenging goddess. “I cannot believe you two are squabbling right now!”

  “It wasn’t me!” I said. “I was only trying to explain how—”

  “Are you saying you don’t even mind that Kat stole Mama’s mirror?” Angeline demanded.

  “I did not—”

  “You must have known you were in the wrong. Otherwise you wouldn’t have kept it hidden from us!”

  “You mean, the way you kept Mama’s magic books hidden from Elissa?” I said.

  “This is all utterly fascinating,” Sir Neville said. “And you shall both have plenty of time to debate all these points further in the future … although not within hearing range of the rest of us, if at all possible. Once Miss Stephenson and I are married and the two of you safely ensconced at Collingwood Hall—”

  “That is not going to happen,” I said.

  “No?” Sir Neville raised one eyebrow. “May I ask exactly how you plan to prevent it, now that your sophisticated and complex strategy of running away has failed?”

  “I did not—,” I began, and then I stopped. There was no point in denying it. This time, I really had just tried to run away.

  This time …

  I swung around. The Golden Hall was empty. The highwayman was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Gregson was gone.

  But he had set a magical alarm to notify him whenever I arrived, hadn’t he? He’d said so the second time I came here. He must still be able to tell, or else he couldn’t have arrived so quickly when I’d come with the highwayman.

  So where was he this time? If he’d finally decided to be reasonable and give me uninterrupted time alone in the Golden Hall for exploration, I would simply have to throttle him.

  The point was, I was on my own. I took a deep breath and tried to think. What did I know how to do? I could turn myself into someone else; well, that wouldn’t help right now, not in full view of everyone. I hadn’t learned a single other magic spell.

  But Guardians didn’t require spoken spells. And I had performed magic several times now, magic powerful enough to shatter Angeline’s spells from Mama’s own magic book and even Mr. Gregson’s magic. All I had to do …

  I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the pressure to mount inside my head and into the air around me.

  “NO!” I bellowed.

  The air did not implode around me. Instead, it gave a quiet pop and went limp. I stumbled.

  “Very entertaining,” said Sir Neville. “If I had been foolish enough to try to cast a spell on you, I’m sure that would have deflated it nicely. Unfortunately, powerful though your spell-breaking abilities might be, they are not actually enough to change anyone’s natural, nonmagical mind about you or anything else in the world.” He laughed, then whispered something under his breath. I was just as glad not to be able to hear it.

  “Oh,” I said. I swallowed hard.

  The choking sensation was back in my throat. Along with it came that horrible new feeling I’d discovered: helplessness. Prickles raced along my skin, pushing me tight in upon myself. The smell of burning meat made me sick to my stomach. I wrapped my arms
around my chest and let the misery overwhelm me.

  What was the use of fighting anymore? Sir Neville was right. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t cast a single useful spell. I couldn’t even use my Guardian magic to break his spells if he didn’t bother to cast any—and why should he bother? He didn’t need to. He had the whole weight of Society behind him, promising scandal and poverty and disgrace to everyone I loved, and all I had was an old mirror. I was completely alone. I might as well give up now, before—

  Wait. The word felt almost like a tangible breath against my ear. I blinked and spun around, but I didn’t see anyone except my family, all staring at me in various attitudes of despair or outrage. Wait for what? I thought. I was on my own. Nobody else was coming to help.

  That’s it. I shook myself like a dog. The prickling, creeping, choking feelings clustered back around me, biting at my skin, but I ignored them. What I’d been thinking wasn’t true. That was the helplessness talking, in Sir Neville’s voice. And it was completely mad.

  I had never been alone in my entire life. Perhaps Sir Neville and his brother had grown up apart, like only children, but I certainly hadn’t.

  And there was something else I would gamble on just as high as Charles had ever gambled on a round of cards: that prickling, choking sensation that surrounded me was no more natural than the color of fish-faced Mrs. Banfield’s hair. Sir Neville had attacked when I was off my guard.

  I didn’t even have to try to summon up the pressure in my head this time. It came naturally.

  “NO!” I shouted again, and the air imploded around us.

  Sir Neville blinked. “Well, that was certainly unusual.”

  “Don’t cast another spell on me,” I said. “Because I won’t be fooled again, no matter how powerful a witch you might be. I am not a helpless person.”

  I turned to my sisters. “Elissa,” I said, “Sir Neville’s first wife came from a family of witches. He locked her up, and she died.”

  “It’s true,” Mr. Collingwood said from the floor below us. “He didn’t murder her, as everyone said, but she simply faded away.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “She faded away. Why did he want someone from a witch’s family? Why does he want all of us? Because we have magical powers.”

  “Kat, you mustn’t speak about—,” Elissa began.

  “We’ll be proper later,” I said. “Right now we need to think. Angeline! I know you’re angry at me, but you have to help me now. Why would he want all of us and our powers locked away in his house in the country?”

  “Well, that’s simple enough,” Angeline said. “He must want to use our powers for himself somehow. As he used his wife’s powers.” Her eyes narrowed. “And she faded away when he’d used her up.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Sir Neville said, and laughed as he turned to Stepmama. “Really, ma’am, are you going to let your stepdaughters natter on in this vulgar fashion?”

  Stepmama laughed too. Her laugh sounded much sharper and less humorous. “Really, Sir Neville,” she replied, “I have never been able to stop them before in my life, so I don’t see how I could possibly stop them now.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I said. “Now, Elissa.” I swung back around and took her hand. “Your fiancé is planning to lock us up in his house and use up our powers until we die. Do you really, truly believe that agreeing to that will save the family?”

  “Well,” Elissa began. Her eyes darted back and forth. “But he couldn’t truly mean to do that. It’s so—”

  “Improper?” I suggested. “Vulgar? Not the actions of a gentleman you could bring yourself to marry?”

  “Pray recall, Miss Stephenson,” Sir Neville snapped, “that you are not only saving your family by accepting my hand in marriage. You are also saving the life of my younger brother.”

  “Ohh!” Elissa pulled away from me and put her hand to her mouth. “I cannot—”

  “Let me die!” Mr. Collingwood said, and rose to his knees to grab her other hand. “Gladly would I give up—”

  “That is quite enough from both of you,” I said. “No one is going to die!”

  “My brother will hang if your sister refuses me,” said Sir Neville. His voice had hoarsened; he was glaring at me as the veneer of gentlemanly polish dropped away.

  “My love,” Elissa began.

  “My darling,” Mr. Collingwood said, raising her hand to his lips.

  “He will not hang,” I said.

  “When I bring my two witnesses to testify to his guilt—,” Sir Neville began.

  “It won’t do you a jot of good,” I said. “Because he’ll still be here. He can’t leave without me. None of you can. Haven’t you realized that yet?” I looked around the group. “We came here through my magic mirror.”

  “Mama’s magic mirror,” Angeline said.

  “It was Mama’s,” I said, “but I inherited it, and now it belongs to me.”

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” said Angeline. “I don’t know what stories you’ve been telling yourself, but—”

  “Oh, she isn’t talking nonsense, Miss Angeline,” Mr. Gregson said mildly from behind me. “She is, in fact, your mother’s heir, as I have been telling her for some time … and I am most gratified to hear that she has finally accepted it.”

  Twenty-One

  “So there you are,” I said. I turned around. “I wondered when you would arrive.”

  “Your highwayman took some time to dispose of,” Mr. Gregson said. “However, you may be happy to know that he is safely on a transport ship to Australia now. You do take up with the most unlikely personages, Miss Katherine.”

  “Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?” Stepmama wailed. “Kat? What highwayman?”

  “The real one,” I said. “Not Mr. Collingwood, as anyone with any sense would know.”

  “Ma’am,” Mr. Gregson said, and bowed to Stepmama, and then to my sisters. “Miss Stephenson. Miss Angeline. Mr. Collingwood.” He straightened, and his eyes met Sir Neville’s. “Sir Neville.”

  “Gregson,” Sir Neville growled. “You had better leave now.”

  “Does everyone but me know about this place?” Stepmama said. “Who should we expect to arrive next? Lady Graves?”

  Mr. Gregson’s lips twitched. “I profoundly hope not,” he said. “But perhaps …” He glanced my way. “One more person could come, if you required more aid than I alone could give.”

  “Not Lady Fotherington,” I said. “I don’t care how much help she could give.”

  Stepmama swayed and put one hand to her head. “Are you genuinely telling me that Lady Fotherington herself—one of the most fashionable women in London society—spends time here too?”

  “Not when I can help it,” I said.

  “Would everyone please be quiet?” Sir Neville’s voice rose to a roar. “You all seem to have forgotten, but the point remains: Miss Stephenson must marry me, and her sisters must come to live with us, or else my brother will hang!”

  “Ah, Neville,” Mr. Gregson said, and sighed. “You never were any good at admitting when you’d been beaten.”

  Sir Neville fisted his hands. “You think you can beat me, Gregson?”

  “No,” said Mr. Gregson. “I think Miss Katherine already has. Or hadn’t you understood what she said earlier?” He turned to me. “So, I take it, the plan is to leave Mr. Collingwood safely here until you’re well away from Grantham Abbey, and then—”

  “No,” I said. “Not anymore.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Mr. Gregson raised his eyebrows—both of them at once, I was glad to see. I would have had to go mad if everyone I knew could raise a single eyebrow at a time except for me.

  “That was my plan,” I said, “but then I thought of something better.” I turned around. “Mr. Collingwood,” I said. “Earlier, when we were talking about how Sarah came from a family of witches, you started to say something, and Sir Neville cut you off. What was it?”

  Mr. Collingwood blinked up at me. �
�I’m afraid I don’t quite recall—”

  “Who cares?” Sir Neville interrupted. “There’s no point in asking him about anything important.”

  “That’s it,” said Mr. Collingwood. He rose to his feet, still holding Elissa’s hand. “You were talking about families of witches, and it occurred to me—did you not know? Our mother was a witch too.”

  “What?” Stepmama said. “What?”

  “She was no such thing,” Sir Neville snapped. “You wouldn’t know anyway. She was dead before you could—”

  “I do know,” Mr. Collingwood said, “and she was my mother as well as yours. The servants told me.”

  “Servants’ gossip,” said Sir Neville, “means nothing.”

  “Oh, it means something,” I said, and smiled. “It means I finally understand what’s going on and what to do about it. Angeline?”

  “Kat?” She looked measuringly back at me.

  “If you need assistance, Miss Katherine, as your tutor—,” Mr. Gregson began.

  “No, thank you,” I said. It was time to take a calculated risk. I was almost sure I had figured out the truth about Mr. Gregson, as well as Sir Neville. Now was the time for me to find out for certain, while my sisters and I could stand together. “My family can take care of this ourselves.” I reached out my hand to Angeline. “Help me?”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Sir Neville said to Angeline. “Didn’t you hear what she was gabbling on about earlier? Calling herself your mother’s heir, taking away what belonged to you …”

  Angeline rolled her eyes. “I am so relieved that you are not going to be my brother-in-law after all,” she said. “You do have a great deal to learn about families.” Her hand slipped into mine, strong and warm. “Now don’t get cocky, Kat,” she said. “I’m still going to throttle you later.”

  “I understand,” I said. “But right now, I need you to do something else.”

  I leaned up to whisper in her ear. She sighed.

  “I hope you’re not making fools out of both of us,” she said.

  “It wouldn’t be for the first time,” Elissa muttered, and shook her head. But she stepped up to stand beside me anyway and took my other hand. As the warmth of both of my sisters pressed against me, I lifted my chin to meet Sir Neville’s gaze full-on.